


grip the steering wheel while i grip your thighs

by thoseguitarists



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Car Sex, Fingering, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoseguitarists/pseuds/thoseguitarists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That is so kinky. Fuck.” Harry moves his hand lower and rubs his fingertips across Niall’s hardening length while he reaches around and squeezes Niall’s bum gently, lightly, biting his lip as he rolls the flesh in his palm. “Know what else is kinky?” </p><p>Niall shakes his head and grins, stepping into Harry’s touch and holding back a hiss of pleasure as Harry skims his index finger into the slit delicately, softly. “Fucking in your car in my parent’s driveway in the middle of the night surrounded by people I’ve known my whole life?” he guesses wildly, wiggling his brows in a way that makes his vision cross. </p><p>“It’s a rental,” Harry replies, reaching behind him to fiddle with the door handle, jerking it open and pulling Niall around the door before falling back and bringing Niall along with him till they’re nothing but a mess of limbs in the backseat of the Cadillac. “And I was going to say fucking out on the lawn, but I think the seats will be better on my back, don’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	grip the steering wheel while i grip your thighs

“It’s been two months, Harry, and I miss you more now than I did the day you left.”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m marking down the days on the calendar till I see you again.”

Niall sighs and drops back on his bed, wincing as the springs creak and protest; he hopes the noise doesn’t wake up his parents, who are only a few feet down the corridor, because he’s not in the mood to deal with their chastising at the moment. “Me too,” Niall admits in the receiver, curling his lips into a frown. “It’s just ― I’m used to seeing you every day during shows or interviews or at the studio, and this little break is so hard because I can’t be with you like I should be.”

“I know, Ni. But it’ll all be over soon. You know I’m coming to Ireland, and then tour starts in a few months, too, and we’ll go back to being just how we were before.” Niall can hear the smile in Harry’s voice, can feel the elation in Harry’s tone as if Harry’s here beside him and not in New York, cuddled nakedly in the sheets with him and not traipsing through the light heat of Central Park. “I’ll see you every night before you go to bed and you’ll see me every morning when you wake up. I promise.”

Niall wraps his bare body in the thin sheets and makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s akin to a whine because waking up and going to sleep to Harry is better than the sun and moon and stars all put together. “We’re not leaving my bed for days, Harry,” Niall says, laughing lightly into the receiver, echoed by Harry’s deep chuckles. “I’ve not had you by me for two months, and as soon as you’re here next week and I have you in my arms, I’m not letting go.”

“Who said anything about next week? Who said I’m not in Ireland right now?”

 _What_? “Harry?”

“Oops. Guess it slipped my mind to tell you that I caught an early flight. Sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious, Harry?” Niall hisses into the receiver, bursting up from the bed and singlehandedly wrapping the sheet around his waist as he fiddles about, searching for the light switch. Once it’s on, he can see clearly, but his mind is still a dark abyss of unknown. “Are you seriously here right now?”

“Look out your window and tell me if I am or not.”

It takes everything in Niall to not drop his phone as he hobbles toward his window; he shoves the curtains apart ― green like Harry’s ever-changing eyes because Maura thought it would maybe help Niall in a weird way, and it has, strangely enough ― and bites back a squeal of excitement when he sees a white Cadillac parked in the driveway. Harry leans against the hood, arms crossed; his shoulder-length hair is let down, blowing softly in the wind, and he raises a hand to wave at Niall.

He looks ethereal, like an angel ― like the most pure thing in the world.

And he’s all Niall’s.

“No fucking way.”

Harry’s smile is so big and white and flawless and crooked that it takes Niall’s breath away for a moment and all he can do is shakes his head and wave in return. He’s paralyzed with happiness, adrenalized by joy, overwhelmed with shock ― and Harry’s little gesture for him to come outside is all it takes to jumpstart Niall into a frenzy of thin sheets and loose sweatpants and unlaced shoes as he zooms from his room and bounds down the stairs and jerks open the door, running to Harry, whose arms are stretched wide open, curling around Niall as his winds around Harry’s shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Niall says ― and his voice is light and faint and airy, like the gentle breeze of wet warmth and soft humidity that swirls around them, creating a tornado at their feet that’s powered by affection and adoration and kindred love. “You’re here. You’re _here_ , Harry.”

“I know _. I know_.” Harry squeezes Niall harder, holding him against his heart ― and it’s racing, fast and rapid and loud, and it makes Niall giggle because his is doing the same thing and he likes the effect he has on Harry since Harry has the same effect on Niall. “I’m here. I’m finally here with you.”

“I missed you so much.” Niall pushes Harry harder, till Harry’s leaning against the car and Niall’s situated between his legs. “I never thought I’d see you again. I mean, I knew I would, yeah, but this has been so long and I just… I couldn’t help but think the kiss we had at the airport was the last one because you made time stop for me that day and it hasn’t started again.”

“Has it started now?” Harry whispers into Niall’s neck, hot and breathy.

And Niall opens his ears at that moment, listens to the booming thunder and electric lightning in the distance, listens to the fluttering of wings and the intensified breeze blowing through the trees and the magnetic pull of the moon as it promises dark desires in Niall’s ear ― and he nods because it has. Harry’s made the clock of life roll again just by smiling, and Niall’s never been more in love with his boyfriend than he is at this very moment.

“It has,” Niall replies, nodding; he pulls back and looks into Harry’s faded green eyes, smiling as he sees streaks of blue and hints of gray. “You’ve made it start again, Harry. You did it.”

Harry just smiles, leaning close and pressing his lips to Niall’s forehead. “I adore you so much, Niall Horan,” he says against Niall’s skin, easing his arms from around Niall and trailing his hands along Niall’s chest, tickling across his tummy till his fingers reach the hem of the loose sweatpants around his fleshy hips. “Are you naked under here?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Like I’m ‘bout to tell you,” he scoffs, carding his fingers through Harry’s tangled mess of curls.

“Ni-all,” Harry moans, kind of, drawing Niall’s name out in a way that makes Niall’s knees quiver; Harry runs his fingers along the waist of the pants before abruptly shoving them beneath the band. His fingers dance through Niall’s pubic hair and Niall hisses a chuckle as Harry tugs playfully. “You _are_ naked, dirty boy!”

“I was getting ready for bed.”

Harry raises a brow. “In the nude? While your parents are in the same house and the only thing that separates you from them is a thin door?”

Nodding, Niall winks ― and fails, horribly and horrendously, which makes the both of them laugh. “You’ve worn off on me.” Niall shrugs. “Besides, I rather enjoyed lying in my childhood bed, naked and thinking about you.”

“That is so kinky. _Fuck_.” Harry moves his hand lower and rubs his fingertips across Niall’s hardening length while he reaches around and squeezes Niall’s bum gently, lightly, biting his lip as he rolls the flesh in his palm. “Know what else is kinky?”

Niall shakes his head and grins, stepping into Harry’s touch and holding back a hiss of pleasure as Harry skims his index finger into the slit delicately, softly. “Fucking in your car in my parent’s driveway in the middle of the night surrounded by people I’ve known my whole life?” he guesses wildly, wiggling his brows in a way that makes his vision cross.

“It’s a rental,” Harry replies, reaching behind him to fiddle with the door handle, jerking it open and pulling Niall around the door before falling back and bringing Niall along with him till they’re nothing but a mess of limbs in the backseat of the Cadillac. “And I was going to say fucking out on the lawn, but I think the seats will be better on my back, don’t you?”

Niall just shakes his head and laughs as he leans up and tugs the door shut behind him before moving low and pressing his lips to Harry’s ― and it’s better than fireworks, better than being on the top of the Ferris wheel, better than a hot shower on a cold day, better than curling into warm sheets, better than walking through the forest and enjoying life.

Better than anything ― because Harry’s lips taste like adventure and his tongue promises that all they need is each other. It’s something and nothing and everything and anything, all at once; it’s what makes Niall’s world go around because Harry is his world and there’s no denying that fact.

“Niall Horan,” Harry murmurs in the darkness of the car, pulling away and sighing as his fingers run up Niall’s sides, tickling the soft flesh and giggling as Niall chuckles. “I want to do everything with you.”

Niall smiles. “Harry Styles, I want to do everything _to_ you,” he replies, and Harry’s smile shines in the darkness. “But I’d rather you do me at the moment.” He smirks, wickedly and seductive; he can feel Harry’s cock begin to harden and he rubs their crotches together slowly, teasingly. “And I want it now.”

“Fucking hell, Niall.” Harry groans, eyes wide, and tugs Niall back down, smashing their lips together in a kiss that tastes like freedom and feels like life; it’s too much tongue, too much teeth, too much biting and nipping and sucking and moaning, but it’s magical, it’s true and real and raw. And Niall loves it.

Niall loves Harry.

The realization makes Niall buck his hips uncontrollably as his mind slows and his heart speeds up. He tears at Harry’s shirt, thanking every deity that comes to mind that it’s one of his disastrously weird button downs, and yanks it off Harry’s shoulders, palming Harry’s hard chest as Harry shimmies the sweatpants down Niall’s hips, off his thighs, leaving them to pool at Niall’s knees.

Harry grabs Niall’s dick, squeezes the base and drags upward dryly, tightly, swallowing the whimpers and muffling the whines that fall from Niall’s mouth with his own lips. He presses a finger into the slit, gathering the bit of precum there and sliding it around the head, lathering and rubbing and jerking till Niall’s leaning away and stripping out of his pants completely.

“Be naked, Harry,” Niall hoarsely croaks in the sizzling air between them. “Please be naked.”

Harry nods, flushed and red and panting and hard as he leans up and shrugs out of his shirt, attacking the snap of his belt and jerking the straps from the loops as he pulls down the zip and tears the jeans from his thighs till they’re nothing but a pile of inside-out denim in the front seat.

He moves forward, reaches into a bag in the front and falls back with a huff; in his hands is a small bottle of lube and Niall raises a brow as Harry uncaps it, tearing off the protective seal.

“You expected us to get it on in a rental car?” Niall asks, and though his words are kind of acidic, his tone is rather amused and dazed and humored.

Harry coughs and shakes his head; Niall won’t let him pull it back into a bun while they have sex because he likes the way the greasy, soft strands feel in his hands as he rides Harry, likes the way his fingers can tug and pull and wrap around and hold on. And Harry does, too, even though he’ll never say.

“I didn’t, no,” he answers, flashing Niall a gleaming smile. “But Gemma did, and I couldn’t tell her to _not_ put the lube in my bag ‘cause mum and Robin were there, too, and it was all a big mess.”  

Niall loves Gemma at this very moment. _A lot_.

Reaching out, Niall snatches the lube from Harry’s hands with a laugh and pushes up; one knee is placed on the seat and the other is stretched out in the floorboard, keeping his bum lifted off the seat. He bends his head somewhat, smirking knowingly at Harry’s befuddled expression. 

He holds three fingers out and squeezes a warm, sticky dollop of lube. He moves his slicked digits to his bum, massaging around the puckered hole before easing a finger just inside, hissing at the intrusion. It’s been a few months since he’s been stretched and filled and creamed, and he’s taking it upon himself to prepare because Harry likes to go slow, likes to savor the warm tightness and tease and taunt and tug at Niall’s heart strings.

But Niall’s impatient, and the last thing they should do is go slow.

“Slick up,” Niall orders Harry, tossing him the bottle of lube, which he barely catches seeing as he’s more than a little bit shocked. But that’s okay. “This won’t take long.”

Harry nods, incredulous, and pours some lube in his palm, wrapping his hand around his cock and tugging up and down, whining and smearing the slick all over till his red, angry prick is glistening in the dark, offset by the high streetlights shining in to the car.

“Niall?”

Niall adds another finger, scissoring his digits; he grunts at the intrusion but pushes on, curling them up, but his fingers aren’t as long as Harry’s and he’s never been able to reach the bundle of nerves that makes his see stars like Harry can.

“Yeah?”

Harry shakes his head and darts forward, shoving his head in Niall’s crotch and breathing heavily; his breath hits Niall’s flustered skin and Niall moans, long and low, as Harry takes the head of his cock in his mouth, licking leisurely, making the tip wet with more than precum.

“Oh my ― _Harry_!” Niall yells loudly, and the call of Harry’s name reverberates through the cab, makes the air vibrate with sensual pleasure as Harry’s tongue swirls and swirls and swirls, treating Niall’s cock like the tastiest lollipop ever.

“Keep ― keep saying my name, please,” Harry whispers against Niall’s cock, giving the tip a kitten lick. “Please. I like the way ― I _really_ like the way it sounds when you say it.”

Niall doesn’t question it, doesn’t allow himself to wonder why Harry’s suddenly asking for his name to be called ― because he’s just added a third finger and Harry’s slowly but surely sinking lower on his cock as he hollows his cheeks and it’s all he can do to hold himself up let alone think coherently.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.” It’s a mantra that leaves Niall’s lips, a verse of smeared, ecstasy-filled lyrics that haunt them like a ghost. “Harry, Harry ― _baby_.”

Harry pulls back with a slurp, wiping at the corners of his eyes to clear his watery vision and smiling up at Niall as if he’s holding the key to the world in his hands. “You ready?” he asks, jumpy and slow, and Niall nods as he removes his fingers from himself, moving over Harry as Harry leans back against the seat, gripping Niall’s hips in a firm hold. “Gentle, okay? S’been a while, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never,” Niall swears as he straddles Harry, reaching down to hold Harry’s length in his hand as he sinks low, slow and easy and steady; Harry’s tip presses at Niall’s entrance and it hurts, kinda, and Niall bites his lips and sinks down till he’s completely full and Harry’s growling and Niall’s whining and the stars outside are aligning. “Move?”

“Okay.”

With Harry’s help, Niall lifts up, falling down against softly as Harry bucks up; Harry’s tip brushes against Niall’s prostate immediately, tickles the sensitive nerve, and Niall’s hands fly out, curling in Harry’s hair as he lets out a choked sob, falling forward and smashing their lips together in a messy, sloppy kiss.

Harry’s breaths are hot and his thrusts are hard and Niall’s bucks are slow, and they somehow find a perfect rhythm of grinding and bouncing that makes their spines tingle and their hearts swell and their eyes cross.

It feels good ― it’s been so long and it feels so good and Niall can just lose himself in the sensation of being one, of being full and warm and creamy and hot, and he’s okay with getting lost because he knows Harry will be there to find him no matter what, and maybe that’s why he loves Harry, maybe that’s why Harry makes everything all right when nothing feels okay.

“Please, Harry,” Niall whines against Harry’s slippery lips, tightening his hold in Harry’s hair; Harry moans brokenly and bucks hard and deep and slow, dragging his swelled length along Niall’s tight, ribbed walls. “Please, please, _please_.”

“Okay, baby boy. Whatever you want.”

Harry’s hand finds Niall’s cock, squeezing the base and moving up slowly, pressing into the slit at the same moment Harry pushes against Niall’s prostate ― and then Niall’s coming, harsh and long and thick and loud, and he muffles his moans in Harry’s neck, shaking as the darkness of the Cadillac is streaked in screaming colors of love and adoration and affection.

Not long after, Harry lets himself loose with a strangled whimper and wraps his arms around Niall’s body, pinning them against one another as he rides out his orgasm and fills Niall up so much it’s leaking out and creating a sticky mess on their bare bodies.

Niall’s favorite part is being full of everything Harry has to offer, especially his cum and love.

Shoving his face in Niall’s chest, pressing a kiss to Niall’s collarbones, Harry says, “I like Cadillac sex with you.”

Niall inhales deeply and laughs, breathless and wrecked. “I like sex with you.”

Harry laughs lightly at the rumbling of chuckled giggles that shake Niall’s chest. “I ―” he begins, croaking in a way that makes Niall frown as his voice cracks.

“Harry?”

“I’m in love with you, Niall,” Harry says, and it’s a whisper, a faint six word story that makes everything more beautiful. “I’m so deeply in love with you that I don’t mind never ever being found again as long as I have you with me.”

“Oh, Harry.”

“I love you, Niall. I love you and I love you and I love you. So much. More than _anything_.”

Niall grins, raking his hands across Harry’s forehead, pushing the sweaty strands away from his pretty, pretty eyes. “I love you,” he says, smiling, and it’s like everything has finally aligned in the universe. The first drop of rain hits the windshield before it begins to downpour, and Niall thinks it’s a perfect way to fall in love: slow, and then all of a sudden, completely and wholly and entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii. Thanks for reading, and have a great day. xxx


End file.
